


Married to the Job

by AlixxBlack



Series: Trope Challenge [10]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluffy, Gen, Trope writing, first meeting AU, friendly fluff, meet cute, pepper helps tony, romance trope, save the princess, slight AU, tony has diabetes, tony is the princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 02:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21384703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlixxBlack/pseuds/AlixxBlack
Summary: Trope #30 of 30, per the list seen on Twitter in a series of tweets by @ selpukuPrompt: ‘I’m diabetic and my blood sugar level dropped and you’re the only one around’A/N: The prompt is used in the reverse, and instead observes the effects of high blood sugar.
Relationships: Pepper Potts & Tony Stark
Series: Trope Challenge [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534436
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	Married to the Job

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is the first time I am writing these characters and exclusively in this universe, which is very intimidating! I hope that I've managed to honor these characters that I truly love and that you are able to enjoy them in this slightly AU first meeting of Tony and Pepper!
> 
> Disclaimer(b): All of the proper rights are reserved to the appropriate parties, and no profit is resulting from the posting of this piece.
> 
> Disclaimer(c): On 11/11/2019, this story was updated to correct a misunderstanding/misrepresentation of diabetes (low sugar/use of insulin).

I look around me, realizing that I’ve been left behind again. This always happens. I’m caught up taking notes and making sure I haven’t missed anything from the meeting before I take off. It leaves me in weird situations. In this case, almost everyone from Advanced Idea Mechanics _ and _ Stark Industries is already gone. Only a handful of people are scuttling around, packing up for the night, and I’m the stranger who hasn’t left yet.

Honestly, I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. I don’t usually care what other people think of my work ethic because I don’t do this job for other people. I work for myself.

“Hello, Miss Potts,” a familiar voice says from the door. Without looking up, I know who it is.

“Good evening, Mister Stark. My apologies for staying so late,” I say gently with a smile on my lips just in case he can see me.

I can hear him approaching me, though his footsteps seem to be staggered.

“No problem, seriously. I love when someone is dedicated to their job like that,” he says, stumbling a bit as he finished his thought. Something is wrong but I don’t want to pry into his life. It is neither my place nor my business.

“I appreciate the hospitality. I’m sorry that our companies could not reach a consensus on joining forces. It really is a shame,” this seems the most appropriate direction to take the conversation. Honestly, I thought it was a mistake on Aldrich Killian’s part to come to the table with such a weak proposal. If I know him at all, though, I know he will push himself into Tony Stark’s inner circle and continue proposing a partnership until he agrees.

“Listen,” he says gently. “I haven’t made any public statements about this, but I am diabetic. My blood sugar feels pretty high and I need someone to walk with me to my car.”

I laugh. “And how do you plan to get home once you reach your vehicle, Mister Stark?”

“I left my insulin in the car this morning, so I’ll take my shot and look over some meeting notes from the day before I head home. Maybe I'll even make a note to enjoy one or two fewer donuts at the next meeting” he says it all as if he’s done it before - as if it’s somehow a normal daily experience. Perhaps it is, actually. If that is the case, then I can’t help but wonder…

“Where’s your assistant? Do you have someone who usually helps you out at the end of the day," the question comes smoothly as I finish packing up and offer my arm to him. Tony Stark accepts it kindly and manages a soft grin.

Although, he shrugs a bit once our arms are locked. “I don’t keep personal assistants for very long. I haven’t found someone as married to the job as I am.”

I laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

I can’t believe he doesn’t know what people say about him. “Married to the job? Can’t you be found in a different club each night of the week with a barrage of beautiful women swooning in your wake, Mister Stark?”

He tries to explain it away as if all of these women know things that he needs to know. Everything is business and work to him, even when he’s drunk apparently, and he can explain everything away. Even if I don’t really believe him, it is humorous to listen to him retell some of the more scandalous stories reported about him from a new perspective.

When we reach his car, I can tell that he’s shaking. I know he won’t be able to give himself the shot of insulin he needs so I take the pack from his hands. “I think you need steadier hands, Mister Stark.”

“I think we’re close enough now that you can call me Tony, don’t you?” he laughs.

As much as I don’t want to smile at him and fall victim to his charm, I do. I hate that I do, but dammit, I do. “Then I suppose you should call me Virginia.”

“I don’t like it, we’ll have to change that,” he declares as he untucks and rolls his shirt up. I motion for him to lean inward a bit more so that nobody sees that he’s getting a shot of any kind. The last thing I need is for the media to think I’m Tony Stark’s drug dealer and that he’s so posh he needs me to shoot him up. I bend down to be hidden by the door and then poke him in a quick motion.

As I am walking around to his trunk where he keeps a box of used insulin needles, I hear Tony making a phone call. I figure that my role here has been played, and I start heading out. I don’t even wave at him as I’m leaving.

It is only when I get to my car that I get an unknown call on my phone. I answer it just the same as I always do, even though I have my suspicions. “Virginia Potts, assistant to the A.I.M. Financial Director. How may I help you?”

“This is your personal phone,” Tony says with joy.

“Do I even want to know how you obtained my personal number?” I ask.

“I’m calling to offer you a job. It’s not as prestigious as being the assistant to that guy that Killian calls a Financial Director, but the pay is the same and you’ll probably have better company at Stark Industries anyway,” he says quickly. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

And I tell him as much.

But he insists, “You can start tomorrow. I have the money to create jobs and offices as I please, and I may not be the most humble guy you’ve ever met, but I know talent when I see it. To not hire you would be a big mistake. I can feel in my bones.”

“Or your blood sugar?” I joke, trying to hide my shock at the job offer.

“So? When do you start?” he asks.

I ponder the thought of working for Stark Industries. If I am honest with myself, I’ve never loved the work I do for A.I.M. There’s nothing in particular that makes the work bland or the company boring, but I just don’t feel connected to the work. I do it because that’s what I do - work - but I don’t do anything else. I go above and beyond because it is my nature, not because I love to do it for the business. Besides all of that, I don’t feel that I have the upward mobility I want for this company. If I don’t care about the work being done by Aldrich Killian, then any higher position offered to me won’t be the one of my dreams.

My dream has always been to become the CEO of a great company that changes the lives of people all over the world.

“I’ll start next Monday,” I declare, sure of the future that I could have by switching sides. I don’t need to run a risk analysis to know logistically that this is the right decision for me.

“I’ll see to it that you have a desk waiting for you, Virginia Potts,” he says very sweetly. It almost doesn’t even seem like the man I’ve seen on the covers of magazines with headlines condemning his playboy nature and high-risk-high-reward business plan. Tony Stark may not be the man I thought he was, not that I thought much of him prior to meeting him in person today.

“Thank you,” I say before ending the call.

As I start pulling out my parking spot, I can’t help but smile. How many people can say that Tony Stark offered them a job after helping him with a secret medical problem? I’m going to guess that I’m the only one. It feels kind of nice being that special, even if I’m just going to be on the lower end of the totem pole in the finance department.

Besides, something tells me that this isn’t going to be the last time I cross paths with Tony Stark.


End file.
